Something to Talk About
by Sara-Lady-Dalian
Summary: Hermione's perceptions of Professor Snape change after "Man to... Man" How does she come to terms with those changes? And what does she do to Ron for interfering?
1. Chapter 1

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

I'm not entirely sure of the word length per chapter yet, but I do know that some are going to be longer than others. The story is mapped out so that each segment will take up whatever length it will take. There will be eleven chapters – well, there are two chapters that might be combined if they are too short (their content would allow that, I think).

This story, from chapter 1 to chapter 11, is very intense; it takes place in approximately twelve hours.

And, yes, this is only book two of a set – while this part of the story will be finished, the whole tapestry will not be finished. You may expect at least one more book past STTA.

This story is Snape/Hermione, so if that pairing squicks you, then leave now and only return when you are more enlightened.

Disclaimer: I will say this once. My initials are not JKR. End of Story.

Something amazing happens to a body when it is slowly awakened by the crackling pop and earthy smell of a well laid fire. Muscles slowly stretch, senses come awake gradually – as if they, too, also want to enjoy the moment, the lungs draw in fewer, but longer breaths so that the smells linger. And sometimes, when you are in a comfortable spot, you backside and hip snuggles down further, seeking a just right spot so that you can go back to sleep – after all, one of the few things more pleasant than waking in front of a fireplace is going to sleep in front of one.

However, such wasn't to be for one Hermione Granger.

The marvelous sensations of waking in front of that fire were quickly pushed aside in dismay when her memory of the previous evening filled the convolutions of her mind. She opened her eyes cautiously and blinked them a few times. Nothing was familiar. Slowly raising herself off the couch she was resting on, she saw her potions professor sitting in a darkly upholstered, winged back chair in the corner of the room, staring at nothing, but probably seeing everything. He had seen her wake up.

"Good of you to rejoin the world, Miss Granger." He seemed to pause here, as if expecting a reply – or apology.

"Professor Snape, I'm sorry." She ran her hand over her uniform skirt and pulled her robes more tightly around her chest, cold even in front of the fire. She quickly started to gather herself further up off the couch. "I'll go back to Gryffindor."

She saw him raise his hand. "That would not be advisable, Miss Granger. It is well after curfew. Either go back to sleep or stay up, but you should not be wandering the school at this time of night."

He nodded across the room to a clock hanging on the opposite wall. Small brass hands pointed to just after three in the morning. "Oh, my." She sat back down on the edge of the sofa and gently rubbed her face. It was, as the professor had said, much too late to be walking through the halls.  
  
Hermione studied his face. He had yet to look directly at her – he was still staring at the fire, his jaw alternately clenching and unclenching. His eyes were heavily lidded and blackened underneath so that she knew that he had not slept that night. His dark hair fell over one side of his face defiantly, as if daring him to come out of his reverie and swipe at it.

He swirled a glass lightly, the amber colored liquid softly running up the sides. She watched, almost bound, as he raised the glass to his lips and sipped from its contents. He seemed to almost hold the moment that the drink passed his throat before lowering his hand and the glass.

This silent, still Snape was a stranger to Hermione. She had seen him in many moods, from sneering to fuming anger. She had never seen this silent, pensive man before. Something about him unnerved her.

"I can hardly ever go back to sleep once I awaken, so I will stay up, I think." Only because she was watching him did she notice the slight raising of his eyebrows. He still wouldn't look at her.

"As you wish, Ms. Granger."

His eyes still seemed to focus elsewhere, not in this room, nor in this timeframe. Hermione wondered what had garnered his interest – and then wondered if she would be able to survive the knowledge.

She scanned the room more thoroughly than she had at first. There was a small table in front of the couch with a few books, but not much else. The clock hung along side a glass cabinet displaying various types of phials. A large desk was under both these wall hangings – it was covered in neatly stacked parchments that looked as if they had been undisturbed for quite some time.

"I usually have some tea when I get up, Professor. Do you mind if I make some?" She hoped her voice didn't sound as tentative as it felt, but this early in the morning, in an unknown situation, with him of all people, even the most stalwart Gryffindor could be excused for feeling a little trepidation. Slowly raising her eyes, she found him finally looking at her. There was a small hint of something in his eyes. If he had been anyone else, she would have thought it humor, but he wasn't anyone else.

"If you must, Ms. Granger." He nodded to the low table before the couch.

She removed her wand from its pocket and swished it in a manner Professor Flitwick would have approved. A silent word later, the few books had stacked themselves and a sturdy tea service had formed on the small table. She sighed in anticipation as she picked up the mug. Some people, she heard, could function before they had their morning tea, but she hadn't been able to do that since before she came to Hogwarts.

It was with some reluctance that she turned her eyes away from the stack of unknown books. She scooted so that her back rested against the arm of the couch. Drawing her feet up under her, she tucked them so that they rested on her robe. Her eyes turned to the same fire he was watching. It was going to be a long morning.

Post AN: I've revised this somewhat and am more pleased than I was previously.

Post AN2: The beginning revised during Chapter 3 being written.

Ciao! Sara


	2. Chapter 2

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian  
  
A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.  
  
I've replied to most of the reviews for the first chapter on the reviews page so I will not go over it all again – but thank you everyone who helped clear up some of my problems with the previous chapter. I've rewritten some of it so that it might flow a little better now.  
  
Disclaimer: I will say this once. My initials are not JKR. End of Story.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Drawing her feet up under her, she tucked them so that they rested on her robe. Her eyes turned to the same fire he was watching. It was going to be a long morning.  
  
It wasn't long before Hermione's thoughts slipped along familiar routes. She was in the midst of several important projects and her mind rarely allowed her much time before it forced her attention to her academic priorities.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and her hands went to her forehead. She had been making the Blood Thinning potion for Professor Snape's third years. And she didn't remember completing the final steps. It took quite a bit of conscious effort to steady her hand and move them away from her face. A few deep breaths helped calm her pounding heart. If she had ruined the potion, he was sure to have said something – or at least, she was sure he would have let her know just what he thought of her wasting precious ingredients.  
  
She looked over at him again. His head had tipped back and his eyes were closed. Something deep inside told her that was a good thing right now. Why, she didn't know. It just was.  
  
"It appears, Professor Snape, that I owe you another apology. The Blood Thinni..."  
  
His hand rose to stop her. "The potion cooled and is now bottled. It was practically done before you..." and here he paused again, "lost track of its progress." It surprised her more than she thought she'd ever admit to see a small upturn of his mouth.  
  
An earlier thought came sweeping so quickly into her mind that she didn't have time to stop its beeline for her mouth. "If I may sir, how did I end up here? And where, precisely, is here?"  
  
"It is difficult, Miss Granger, even for a Potions Master of my experience, to bottle a potion while there is someone slumped practically in the fire." His voice was stiff and metered. "And you are in my office's sitting room." He paused, again.  
  
Hermione had always thought that he saw everything he wanted to say and edited it, spun in, and rethought it before he allowed the idea out of his mouth. The dramatic pauses he indulged in seemed to be the more thorough bits upon which he was chewing. From the length of this pause, she thought whatever idea he was working on must be particularly brutal.  
  
"Madame Pompfey would have needed to treat you for an incredibly stiff neck if you had slept on that bench any longer, so I brought you here while I bottled the potion." A thoughtful silence preceded a scowl. "I had a visitor as I was putting the bottles away. The headmaster thought it would be better if you stayed here instead of wandering back to your tower."  
  
"Headmaster?" She wondered why the headmaster would even know that she had fallen asleep here. Had he been Professor Snape's visitor?  
  
He must have seen her confused face because he followed her unasked question.  
  
"Last nights 'humanoid demon' came in search of you. It appears that you missed dinner, and an..." and he frowned just slightly, "an appointment. Mr. Weasley was apparently a little upset at learning you had left the classroom. He then went to the headmaster, concerned, of course, for your 'disappearance'."  
  
Hermione found herself silently disputing his assumption that Ron had been concerned for her. "And the headmaster, being the headmaster, probably knew exactly where I was." The words came out as a whisper, but of course, he heard her.  
  
"I have no doubt." His eyebrows rose. There was something he wasn't telling her; but then, when did this man ever tell anyone the whole truth?  
  
She shook her head again. Sometimes she couldn't understand Ron. There were times that she even wondered if she still liked him at all. "I'm sorry for you getting caught up in this, Professor. I'm sorry he came down here and made such a nuisance of himself." It wouldn't have been the first time that he had made a fool of himself by rushing in blindly, and she doubted, it would be the last.  
  
"He did indeed make a fool of himself, but it was not here."  
  
His voice had turned hard and sharp as the finest dagger. When she looked at him puzzled about what he meant, she could almost see the anger boiling in his eyes – it was certainly there in the set of his jaw. "What do you mean?"  
  
He didn't answer her for a few moments. His hand swirled his glass around while he chewed on his thought. When he did speak, his tone had taken on a very staccato measure.  
  
What he told her then was shocking and disturbing. She couldn't believe that Ron had practically accused Professor Snape of seeming abduction and bodily harm, and then tried to attack him. What surprised Hermione more was Snape's admission that he had defended her.  
  
He defended her, protected her.  
  
As he was nearing the end of his story, she noticed that he stopped short of saying something that he obviously didn't want to tell her. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.  
  
"Why, Sir?" She looked at her hands, which were resting on her drawn up knees, confused by Severus Snape's behavior and dismayed at Ron's.  
  
"Why, Miss Granger? There are many reasons why, and they are none of your business!" And that was all that needed saying on the matter, apparently.  
  
He had gone back to staring at nothing in particular, clenching his jaw and swirling his drink. This lasted for a bare few minutes when he suddenly stood up. He was half way out of the room when he heard Hermione's frustrated sniff. Barely looking back, he conjured her a soft, angora throw that settled itself over her legs and shoulders. "I'm sure that when an appropriate hour arrives, Miss Granger, you will find your own way out." The door slammed behind him, resounding within the small confines of the room. 


	3. Chapter 3

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

AN: I want to apologize that this has taken so long to get out. I had fully intended to get this out in June (eegad – I know... imagine me on my knees begging forgiveness.) Well, RL didn't work out.

This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About" otherwise this probably won't make much sense. MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

Chapter 3

"_I'm sure that when an appropriate hour arrives, Miss Granger, you will find your own way out." The door slammed behind him, resounding within the small confines of the room._

The fireplace didn't pop this time like it had earlier in the morning. In fact, it's coolness brought a rather rude awakening. Hermione turned her head towards the clock and saw that it was, in fact, almost six o'clock. The Slytherins shouldn't be up this early so she could safely make her way out of the dungeons.

It wasn't until she was sitting up, folding the green Angora throw that she remembered the end of her conversation with Professor Snape. Ever since she had known him, he had been an enigma. Last night had only added to the puzzle that her mind formed around him. She was sure something had happened that he was unwilling to tell her. But did she honestly want to know? Smoothing the soft afghan folded on the couch cushion, she pondered that very question for some minutes.

"Pardon me, Miss Hermione," a small voice over her shoulder squeaked.

Hermione turned to the fearful House elf. She had continued her campaign to liberate the Hogwarts House elves, but none of them would listen to her on the matter. But, still, she continued to be hopeful. "Yes, Winky?"

"I's hopes that you will not be angry with Winky. But Hes told me to bring you a set of clothes from yours room." The small, brown elf pointed out a bundle laying on the lamp's end table. Her little finger was shaking.

"You followed your orders, Winky. You did very well." Hermione saw the trembling subside just a fraction. "Thank-you, Winky. I was not looking forward to walking through the halls looking like I had slept in my clothes." A quick glance at her crumpled skirt confirmed that the damage was indeed as bad as she feared. "Even though I did." She couldn't help a small sigh. Her knee socks and uniform skirt weren't her preferred nightgown.

It should be, she thought, wrong to be thinking of a nightgown while she was in the Potions Master's sitting room.

She heard Winky snap her fingers and the smell of her drifted, tantalizingly towards her. The pull was almost narcotic in the effect it had on her body. Her salivary glands started working. Her nose quivered with the anticipated stimulus. Her hands curled almost as if she was already holding the small cup.

Before she could thank Winky, the little elf had disappeared.

It was only with a fortifying sip of tea that she contemplated the task of changing her clothes. Such a simple request, coming from Dumbledore wouldn't have scared the little elf. That left Professor Snape. If he ordered the clothes brought, he expected her to put them on. Resolutely, she turned towards the door and murmured a quick locking spell. It wouldn't stop anyone competent from getting in, and indeed, she wasn't sure that a Professor could be kept out of their own sitting room, but she needed the illusion of some privacy.

Winky had been thorough when she brought the change of clothes, and included a set of "unmentionables" as her mother called them. Hermione had thought briefly, while unbuttoning her blouse, about not changing into the fresh undergarments. The thought was quickly dismissed - she would just have to hurry.

It was only while folding her crumpled clothes that she noticed that while they were wrinkled, they were not dirty. She remembered getting several splash stains on the cuff of her shirt and robe, but now they were gone. She certainly hadn't cleaned them. Even the spots on the palm of her hand were gone. Strange.

The small stack of clothing was quickly minimized and placed in an inside robe pocket. They could be added to the rest of her cleaning when she got back to Gryffindor. Just getting there unseen would be a challenge – even if the Slytherins wouldn't be awake for quite a while, yet. There were all the rest of the castle's denizens to consider. Heaven help her if she ran into Mrs. Norris or, even worse, Peeves!

When she finally reached the Fat Lady's portrait, she had evaded three of the castle's ghosts as well as Professor Sinestra. It was a relief to be back at Gryffindor.

"Draconis Arium."

The Fat Lady opened her portal with a very bare acknowledgement. A little wave and nod was all Hermione was allotted. Apparently, the portrait too, was still asleep.

After stepping through the doorway, she passed down the short corridor that led into the Gryffindor common room. She had been thrilled upon seeing the crimson wall hangings on her first night and she was still excited. Her very own House.

And there, sleeping on her very own House's sofas were her two very own best friends. Somehow Ron always seemed to clash with the décor in the tower. She would never say such a thing out loud, but now, looking at him stretched out on that deep crimson sofa she could admit it to herself. At least Harry's hair didn't compete with the red leather upon which he was laying.

There was no one up in Gryffindor this early in the morning. That had always been her time - time to get ready, time to enjoy the quiet before the mad dash for classes. It was her time to just be. These two certainly wouldn't be getting up this early.

Now as she looked at them, she felt at odds with herself. They had waited up for her. But was that because they were concerned or because they wanted to check in on her? The doubts rolled around her mind until she wasn't sure which she believed. Either way, the one thing she was sure about was that she didn't want to discuss it right now.

Ron's actions had been totally irredeemable. She had been upset at him earlier, but this! Having gone to Professor Dumbledore practically accusing Professor Snape of abducting her was the final straw. His protective attitude had gone far enough. It wasn't even as if they were really seeing each other. Something had to change and it was going to take some radical treatment to affect said change. Ronald Weasley had to have his way of thinking changed very quickly if he was planning on keeping his friendship with her.

Hermione didn't think she had the words to tell him that right then, though. So she did what any female would do – she left. Come to think of it, that behavior wasn't very Gryffindorish. It was all she could do, though.

"Off so soon, dear?" The Fat Lady seemed to have woken up.

"Yes. I'm going to have an early breakfast and then head to the library before classes start." Hermione knew that at least if she told the Portrait, someone in Gryffindor would know where to find her. And she was sure that Harry and Ron would be asking as soon as they woke up. She didn't even bother to smother the sigh that rose in her throat.

"The day will get better."

Hermione stared at the Portrait. "Do you really think so?"

"You'll see."

Trying to believe her House's guardian, she nodded and walked down the hallway, towards the Great Hall. She truly wanted to believe that something good was going to happen today, but somehow, she just couldn't believe.

Dos Vidanya – Sara Lady Dalian


	4. Chapter 4

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

Chapter 4

_She truly wanted to believe that something good was going to happen today, but somehow, she just couldn't believe._

Hermione could only play with her breakfast. When her mind was filled with other things, she couldn't seem to eat. Finally she gave up moving her eggs around her plate. They were beginning to resemble something she had seen in the feed boxes behind Hagrid's hut last year when they were hosting Manticores.

For Hermione Granger, there was one sure method of getting rid of a bad mood or depressing thoughts. And, so, she picked up her satchel and pulled out her books. She had Herbology, Transfiguration and Charms today and there were assorted papers and assignments to hand in for each class. And, yes, she needed to return A History of Passive, Pervasive Charms by Calmmery Lasting to the library. Madame Pince said she would need to owl it back to the Minister's Library in London today.

She looked back at her breakfast plate one more time. In doing so, however, she caught sight of Ron's seat across from her. Her gut tightened. They had been sitting right here, yesterday, when he had opened his mouth and inserted his leg. Fresh anger bubbled inside as she thought about him. She had long ago given up on the idea that they would ever be anything more than friends. Ron just couldn't seem to get up the guts to ask her out, and she wasn't going to do it for him. But, still, he had no right to say that she couldn't do what she wanted with her life!

"I don't know why anyone would want to keep going to school! I mean, what would be the point? The Ministry only requires good NEWTS. Why would anyone need to do more?" Most of the other Gryffindor's nodded their heads in agreement. Hermione could only stare at him.

Professor McGonagall had gathered the Gryffindors to announce the schedule and deadline for tertiary studies above and beyond the NEWTS. Hermione knew that many of her schoolmates wouldn't want to take further studies, but she was glad that the option was available. There were still so many gaps she saw in the classes offered at Hogwarts, so much she still wanted to know. She hoped that she could fill in those gaps with a tertiary study schedule. She should have expected that Ron wouldn't see things her way, but she didn't expect what would come out of his mouth when she said she wanted to go for her tertiary levels.

"But Hermione! I thought..." He looked at his shoes before he gathered his courage to face her again. "I thought we were going to be together."

She stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. The hallway was full of people who streamed around the two of them. No one really paid them any attention, but she still spoke quietly. "We will always be friends, Ron. But this is something I have to do."

"Why? What do you need the extra lessons for if we're going to become Aurors? I don't want you to go away. I thought we'd fight the bad guys and then settle down and have a home and..."

Hermione couldn't keep the temper in check as he listed his plans for their future. "And what, Ronald Weasley? That we'd have a pack of children, a vegetable garden and Quidditch games in the yard?" She could see in his face that is exactly what he had planned. "And when were you going to inform me of this? When were you going to find out what I wanted for my life? Do you even care that I might not want children, a garden fence or that I might not want to have to watch another Quidditch game after I leave Hogwarts?"  
  
It was, she thought, the best part of valor to leave before she hexed his legs off for stupidity.

Memories of his words were still filling her mind when she walked away from the Great Hall. The staircases were still fairly deserted as most of the students were just dragging themselves out of bed. The few that she met on the way to the library were familiar – mostly bibliophiles like her and a few heavy procrastinators who got up early to finish the assignments for first class.

The doors to the library seemed to welcome her and offer her a greeting as she pushed them open. There was a light creaking, as if she were opening the lid to a treasure trove – and to Hermione she was. The light here was bright without being overly so. The air was still without being stagnant. The smell was old without being moldy. It was everything a library should be. For Hermione, this place was what Hogwarts was really about. The magical learning of more than an thousand years was stored here. When she wandered the stacks, she could find answers to questions that she hadn't heard even proposed. Then she could look up the proper questions, which would usually lead her to more questions.

Madam Pince saw her come in the door and nodded to a basket on her desk. She had a stack of books in her arms and one levitating behind her. "Put the book there, Hermione. I'll arrange for it to go back to the Lending Library this morning."

"Thank you, Madam Pince. Please be sure to send my gratitude. The book contained just the information I needed." She gently laid the book in the outgoing basket. "Do you think they might check the stacks for..." but Madam Pince had already gone about re-shelving the books she was holding.

All Hermione could do is sigh and leave her new list. Why Madam Pince didn't just allow Hermione to order the books she needed from the Minister's Library herself she didn't know. But somehow, the books always showed up, whether or not she actually gave the list to the librarian or not.

Knowing she had a few minutes, she headed to the back of the library and the Potions section. She wanted to look at Stealth Potions and their Mysteries once more. There was that question about the statice bud in the Quietness Potion trial she needed to research while she had the chance.

While winding through the Charms section, she heard voices. It was not unusual to hear voices in a public room, but when they mentioned her name, she naturally stopped to listen. It was two girls, neither Gryffindor. Sally-Ann Perks was a Hufflepuff in her year, but she didn't know the other girl.

"I know. Well, you should have seen them in the hall yesterday. She should be grateful that anyone wants her, but she just told him where to put his ideas! Imagine, Ron Weasley!"

"I know, Sally-Ann. I heard, too, that he was looking for her all over the castle last night. He even went to the dungeons! But, apparently, he went back to Gryffindor without finding her."

It was almost too much for Hermione. She knew gossip was natural in a closed environment such as Hogwarts, but she didn't want to be the subject of said gossip. She did what any Gryffindor would do – she rounded the corner and stepped up to the shocked girls.

"Hello. In case you didn't know, I'm Hermione Granger. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. In fact, the whole library could probably overhear it. If you think that Ron Weasley is such a catch, go and try him out for yourself. You're welcome to him. In fact, I bet if you're quick you can catch him shoving three breakfasts in his mouth right now in the Great Hall, babbling on about Quidditch and how much of his homework he didn't get done for today's classes. If you are interested in a perennial thirteen year old with nothing more interesting than flying and sex on his mind then, by all means, Ron Weasley is the right boy for you. Have at him!" By the time that she finished her tirade the two girls were standing there with their mouths open and their eyes wide. "And do close your mouths, you look like gold fish."

Hermione couldn't keep still any longer. She turned from the stacks and stormed out of the library, pausing only long enough to collect her bag.

If she had looked behind her she would have seen a tall man walking out of the Potions section, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly pursed. But his eyes were following the tall, angry brunette storming out of the library.

AN: I was originally going to make Ron do something really stupid like get caught snogging another girl while telling Herms that he wanted them to be together always... but decided that this seemed more the thing. I hope it satisfied and answered some of your questions. A bit of a warning – the next chapter is very short. But I needed to separate it from this chapter and the one after it – we'll all just have to deal. I'm working on Chapter 6 right now and it's a bugaboo. Hopefully you won't have to wait long – it's going to be a good one.

Bye – Sara Lady Dalian


	5. Chapter 5

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

Chapter 5

_If she had looked behind her she would have seen a tall man walking out of the Potions section, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly pursed. But his eyes were following the tall, angry brunette storming out of the library._

Hermione didn't know precisely where her feet were taking her, but she was content to let them guide her. The portion of her mind that was thinking of her destination was glad that her feet seemed to know where they were going. They wandered down the corridors and away from the Great Hall.

As sometimes happens when one doesn't care where one is going, Hermione's attention wavered. It wasn't long until she bumped into someone standing at a window, looking out at the Hogwarts grounds.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger. Do be careful. You could hurt yourself." The voice was as old as the man who placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore." She steadied her pack back on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."  
  
He laughed a little bit. "Yes, that is something the young often do. But it is an interesting way to find new things."

It was then that she realized that Hogwarts had put her somewhere she had never been.

"I wouldn't worry over much about it." He pointed to a small bench on the opposite of the corridor. "Why don't we sit down and have a chat. There is still time before first class."

Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted a chat with Dumbledore, but she sat down anyway.

"How are you doing this term, Miss Granger? I know you must be busy. I've been told you are doing admittance projects in Charms and Potions. That is quite a workload." He looked over his nose at her. In most people it would have been condescending, but somehow, coming from the Headmaster, it was merely questioning.

"Yes, sir. I haven't decided which field I want to go into. There were also questions I wanted to pose in both fields." She put her book bag down on the ground next to her and crossed her ankles. She wasn't sure how long she and the Headmaster would be on that bench, and her sack was heavy.

"Your theory on Quietness Potions is interesting. Professor Snape showed me the thesis you presented him prior to his approval." His look had a questioning quality about it. Somehow she knew this is why he had wanted to talk to her.

"Yes, sir. I was glad he approved the paper. I start trials next week during the New Moon. Hagrid will take me out to collect the spent statice and lichens involved in the first trials. Professor Snape insisted that they be freshly collected." As she spoke of the first trials, her mind seemed to replace some of her anger with a sense of anticipation at the potions trials she was soon to work on. She really wanted them to work, but understood that even if she did perfect the change in the Quietness Potion she wanted, it would likely take many trials. If only there was enough time!

"You have always been capable of whatever you wanted to take on, so I will not worry about this. I will say, though, that there are many people willing to lend you an ear if you wish to discuss your projects. Or anything else." He was silent once again for a moment.

"I do believe that you need to get to Charms, Miss Granger. If you follow this corridor to the end, you will find a staircase. Ask it politely to take you to the Charms corridor and it will do so." He smiled at her again before he stood up and walked down the corridor towards the Main Hall.

When he had turned the corner, humming slightly to himself and chewing happily on a lemon drop, she remembered what Harry had asked Percy Weasley the night they were all sorted, about Dumbledore being mad. Sometimes Hermione thought he was more than a bit mad. But she agreed he was brilliant.

AN: I know this one is very short, but it was a necessary evil. I'm working on the next chapters even before you are reading this. The next chapter shows some interaction between the Trio. Hopefully you won't have a long wait


	6. Chapter 6

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to... Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

Some notes for those that follow the series – while I was typing this chapter, I also got the outline for "Every Which Way But Loose" written. EWWBL is scheduled to take four chapters, but I may elongate it to take in five. I will have to see how the flow goes. It is set in Paris, about six years after the Trio graduates from Hogwarts.

There are just three or four more chapters. I had scheduled four, but one is rather small and might be easily combined with another, I'll have to see. Here you all go – I'm sorry for the wait. shrugs sheepishly. I hadn't planned on chapter 6 taking this long.

Chapter 6

_When he had turned the corner, humming slightly to himself and chewing happily on a lemon drop, she remembered what Harry had asked Percy Weasley the night they were all sorted, about Dumbledore being mad. Sometimes Hermione thought he was more than a bit mad. But she agreed he was brilliant. _

"I don't want to talk about it." Hermione must have repeated that sentence ten times to one or the other of her friends. Ron had seemed rather upset at her – as if his doing something stupid was her fault. Harry on the other hand seemed mildly confused.

"But Hermione," Ron whispered again.

"No, you listen, Ronald Weasley. What I do with my life is my business and my business alone. You have no say in that, and quite frankly, you never did. Any liberties I may have granted you dissipated quite some time ago. As for your actions last night," she narrowed her eyes at him while continuing, "you can only be glad that you didn't get expelled for trying to attack a Professor."

Harry swung his head at her. She could see the thoughts running through his head. Neither of them had said a word about that part of the evening, so how had she known? The only possible answers were Snape or Dumbledore and one was just as bad as the other – just for different reasons.

Ron merely glared at her and turned away in a huff. She could see him muttering something under his breath and thought she heard the word priorities but couldn't be sure. Sometimes she thought his were way off the map. But there was very little she could do for him. He was a grown boy by now – or at least he should be.

Furiously she turned her attention back to Professor McGonagall If they interrupted class again, she didn't know if she would just scream or whether she'd actually start throwing hexes. When she looked down at the notes she had made from this chapter she realized Ron had caused her to miss discussion of three pages. Hex – definitely a hex was in order she thought as she flipped to the proper section.

It wasn't until lunch that one of the other Gryffindors asked her what was going on between her and Ron. As it happened that someone was Ginny Weasley. She was often appointed by the rest of Gryffindor as the unofficial pulse keeper for the Trio. When something was wrong between the three of them, it seemed to infect the rest of the House.

It was just after a very tense lunch that Ginny cornered Hermione outside of the Great Hall. "Ok. Give." Hermione felt Ginny take her by the elbow and lead her to a little nook behind a suit of armor. She didn't want to talk to Ginny – after all Ron was her brother and he was the one acting the prat – but she knew that if she didn't tell the redheaded girl something she would never get to Herbology.

"Your brother is being a typical, prattish male, Ginny. That's all there is to the story." She shrugged out of Ginny's hold and walked away. Though she understood the reasons, she meant what she had said to Ron and Harry earlier. She didn't want to talk about this just now. She still couldn't believe Ron's insufferable attitude – even after six and a half years – and she couldn't believe his attempted attack on Professor Snape. It wasn't like it had been in third year when Snape was trying to hurt Sirius and Professor Lupin – that was a matter of defense, off Hogwarts grounds. This was just blind stupidity.

Even the beginnings of a glorious spring day didn't filter through Hermione's mood. Usually she could at least lighten her tensions outside when the sky was as clear as it was today – but this time the weather barely registered. Something about that vaguely bothered her, but she wasn't sure exactly what it was.

Her winter cloak flapped behind her as she strode over the lawn towards the greenhouses. She was a little early, but she never had let that bother her before. As she was about to open the door to greenhouse number five she heard voices inside. Her eyes narrowed. Murmuring a soft silencing charm on the door, she opened it just enough to squeeze inside. She found two third year Ravenclaws standing there, poking the Venomous Tentacula pot with a long stick.

"What shall it be? Five points a piece for being in a restricted area. Another two points a piece for missing your lunch – growing boys need their vitamins. And ten points a piece for trying harm a valuable specimen plant." Hermione's voice was hard as she pronounced judgment on the younglings. But they were in grave danger, probably without even knowing it. The Tentacula was getting ready to flower and it's buds contained a powerful contact poison – a poison that was clear and could spread easily –say from bud to stick to skin. "I will also expect you to inform Professor Sprout of your presence here, and what you were doing. Run along, now. You've got enough time to find her in greenhouse two." The children picked up their satchels and ran out of the greenhouse very quickly. Hermione did not often invoke her privilege of point deduction, but when she did it was often rather spectacular. This time it only gave her a headache.

That headache didn't say goodbye quickly, either. It wasn't long before other members of her class came trampling into the greenhouse. When those early comers noticed that Hermione was there but Harry and Ron hadn't shown up, they quickly started murmuring amongst themselves. Those that didn't yet know of the latest disagreement between Ron and Hermione were enlightened – and speculation was rampant about the cause.

"So, Granger," Malfoy said, walking over to the table she was standing by. He swept her school books aside and hopped up on the counter next to her – earning a glare that should have warned him away. "I heard that you and the Weasel are on the outs again. Can't say that I blame you. I don't know why you stood the presence of that blood-traitor for so long." He raised his eyebrows as if to suggest some kind of... something that Hermione just didn't want to think about.

"Oh, right. That would be because you couldn't do any better. Top marks in the school won't change your blood lines so you had to go fo..." He didn't get any further. Somehow Hermione's wand in his throat was sufficient deterrent.

"One more word and I'll be using Malfoy tissue samples as poison test strips." There was even a convenient spell to flay the skin and separate the bones. Hagrid had mentioned it once in passing.

"Miss Granger. It would help if you'd let Mr. Malfoy off the counter. The Tentacula seedlings are behind him. I don't want him to ruin next weeks' lesson." Professor Sprout's voice was clear, a bit bored and rather down-to-earth about the possibility of Malfoy being taken in by Tentacula seedlings. Hermione only smirked when he almost ran towards his spot at the back of the class. They were only seedlings, after all.

Harry had slipped into the spot Draco had vacated. His eyes held a worried expression as he studied Hermione's face. She could see that he was concerned for her – and trying to buffer her and Ron. When he squeezed her hand, she squeezed back. But she wouldn't look at Ron.

There were very few accidents in the greenhouse that day. Most everything in greenhouse five was fairly dangerous in some way or other. The students had come to respect or, at the very least, were willing to give Professor Sprout the benefit of the doubt when she said that the plants needed to be handled carefully. As it happened, they were preparing Wiggamagard root for Professor Snape to use in the Advanced Potions class. Nearly half of the students present also took that class. The thought of having to work with roots that had been improperly harvested was not something that they looked forward to.

The lesson seemed to drag on forever. Hermione knew that reality didn't stretch itself just because she wanted the day to be over with – but today felt like time had done just that. And the feat was accomplished with the sole purpose of annoying her. Class wasn't something that Hermione usually dreaded, but today – well, today was different.

As the class started to break up, Hermione purposely took her time in cleaning up her work area. Ron quickly left the greenhouse with only the barest of cleaning. Harry just looked at Hermione with a small shrug. She shooed him out, knowing that he wanted to make sure Ron didn't get into trouble while he was in such a foul mood.

As she was leaving the greenhouse, Professor Sprout called out to her. "Oh, Miss Granger. I wanted to thank you for taking care of those young Ravenclaws earlier. They came to me and apologized. I dare say that they were rather afraid that you would deduct more points if they didn't confess promptly." The professor had a rather mischievous smile on her face. "It did them no harm. And those Tentaculas could have. Thank you again!" With that the dumpy professor made her way past Hermione and back towards the school.

She was just about to follow when she saw Harry and Ron heading towards the Pitch. She knew that neither of them had class just then – and they didn't have practice. She could see that they were having some kind of heated discussion; Ron's hands were moving and both of them were trying to talk at the same time. Not really wanting to, but knowing they had to talk this through, Hermione Granger did the Gryffindor thing and followed them.

Since they had such a good lead she didn't catch up with them until they had reached the pitch. The discussion they were having was still intense. The Quidditch stands were rising in front of her before she could make out what the boys were saying. Neither of them realized that she was there.

"... like that." Harry, as ever, tried to calm his friend down.

But it hardly ever worked.

"I still think he seduced her!" Ron's voice had the same inflection and volume as if it had come from a howler.

All they heard was an outraged and furious gasp. All they see is the wand tip of the scariest witch in Hogwarts - pointed strait towards them.


	7. Chapter 7

Something to Talk About by Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to… Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

It has taken me quite a while to get this out, and I hope you like it. This is actually three chapters in the original outline, but I couldn't separate them when it came right down to it. Happy reading.

Chapter 7

_All they heard was an outraged and furious gasp. All they was the wand tip of the scariest witch in Hogwarts - pointed strait towards them._

"_Immobulus_!" The word that sprang from Hermione's lips immediately froze her victim – and caused the lucky one to back away. Maybe it was because she had taught him most of his spells but Gryffindor courage apparently didn't include standing up to Hermione Granger when she was in a fury.

"You have gone too far this time Ronald Weasley! Not only have you abused our friendship, put Harry in the middle of this, insulted and threatened Professor Snape – but you've insulted my intelligence! Do you think if anyone had tried a trick like "seducing" me, I wouldn't have seen right through it, that I could be persuaded to do something against my will? But besides that, so what if he had!"

Hermione circled him now. She kept her wand pointed at her still target and the sole object of her attention. Her eyes narrowed. Her breathing quickened. She poked him every few words during her tirade.

"You are very lucky that I don't march you right into the Dark Forest and feed you to Aragog right now! I will tell you this one more time Ronald. My life is my own. You are hereby denied access until you come to your senses and properly apologize."

She came to stand right in front of Ron before she softly muttered "_Finite Incatatum_". He stumbled out of the paralysis just in time to catch a hard right hand to the side of the cheek. "I don't know if I can ever forgive you but it will be a start." She backed away from the pair of boys who were looking at her with desperation in their eyes.

Neither moved as she left the pitch.

It wasn't until she was halfway back to the castle that she stopped shaking. Her fits of violence came on suddenly, and tended to evaporate just as suddenly. All she was left with now was an empty feeling that came from losing her best friend. It was all so pointless! This would have never have happened if Ron had just talked to her sooner. Then she could have straightened everything out and they could have lived in relative peace. But no, he had to go and be a… well, a Boy!

It was with some relief that she opened the solid wood door leading into the castle. It was secure, steadfast, and resilient. The hinges groaned softly as she pulled the handle enough to slip through the opening. As the door shut behind her, she leaned back upon it and gathered a deep breath.

"Miss Granger."

Somehow she wasn't really surprised.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?" She squared her shoulders and finally opened her eyes after drawing another deep breath.

He smiled a crooked, half smile and indicated an open door off to the side of the entranceway. She didn't remember it ever being there before, but that didn't really bother her as she had long ago given up trying to make Hogwarts Castle conform to any sort of natural physical laws.

The room was a comfortable looking sitting room, decorated in odd bits of furniture, taken from different parts of the castle. She sat in the chair closest to the fire and absently took the cup of tea that came to hover before her. As she sipped, she waited for the Headmaster to say what he wanted to say.

"I would ask you to remember our previous discussion, Miss Granger, about not hexing your fellow Gryffindors." His eyes danced as she huffed at the memory. The morning after Harry faced Quirrell and Voldemort for the Philosophers Stone, Professor Dumbledore had a few words with her about hexing Neville. She had felt guilty about that; she felt no such remorse now. There was no use, really, in denying that she had in fact done just that. But she refused to feel guilty.

"I do seem to recall that discussion, Professor. I do recall agreeing that it was wrong to do – but I don't recall agreeing not to do it again." She smiled at that little bit of semantics.

"Just so, Miss Granger. However, I must ask you to do just that." He looked at her down his nose, over his moon glasses and across his tea cup. She only raised her eyebrows at him. His chuckle surprised her. She thought he would have pursued the matter further. "You may go, Miss Granger."

As she was just about to walk out the door, he spoke again. "Use your time wisely, walk slowly and make sure you know why you want the answer to your question, Miss Granger."

On her way down the stairways leading to the dungeon, she kept replaying the Headmaster's words. That was really the crux of the matter. Why did she care that Professor Snape stood up for her, that he had taken care of her last night and though she understood why Ron's behavior made her angry, why did she sense it had infuriated the Professor? Why?

"_There are many reasons why, Miss Granger, but they are none of your business!"_

She remembered what he had said to her when she asked that question in the early bits of the morning. She had taken them as a reprimand then, partially because she was still sleep logged, but she needed more of an answer now. Somehow, she had to have it.

As she fought against the tide of students crossing the corridor she felt an unaccustomed urgency. She had to get to him, to see him, to make sure that she hadn't dreamt this strange convolution she was living. She had to make sure he still was there.

The first students that passed by her were unusually chatty for the end of a potions class. It wasn't until she saw some students hobbling towards her, being carried by friends that she realized they were third years. Third years who had botched their modifications on the Blood Thinning potion she had made last night. She smiled at them and told them to go to Madame Pomfrey. Luckily the antidote to the more common problems was painless. In fact, it even had a slight strawberry flavor. She saw them sigh in relief before she continued towards the classroom door. The last of the students were filing out, thankfully. She hadn't looked forward to an audience when she met with the Professor.

He was moving about the tables, clearing away the rest of the botched potions. His hair had fallen around his face and his robe hung off his bent frame. It wasn't until she knocked on the open door that he looked up at her. There was something of resignation about his face as he beckoned her forward. She closed the classroom door and followed him through his office door.


	8. Chapter 8

Something To Talk About By Sara Lady Dalian

A/N: This is an immediate continuation of "Man to… Man?" and I suggest you read that story before you read "Something To Talk About." MtM was written from Severus' POV, but this story is from Hermione's POV.

This is the last chapter – though there will be an epilogue. As I am writing this it is eight o'clock on Christmas Eve. My little eighteen-month old boy will not go to sleep – he doesn't understand about Santa – and we have to wait to put in the tape of George C. Scott's "A Christmas Carol" until he's down. I hope to have this posted for all of you tomorrow – though right now I just can't promise anything. Happy Reading and I hope you all enjoy the holidays.

Chapter 8

_He was moving about the tables, clearing away the rest of the botched potions. His hair had fallen around his face and his robe hung off his bent frame. It wasn't until she knocked on the open door that he looked up at her. There was something of resignation about his face as he beckoned her forward. She closed the classroom door and followed him through his office door._

By the time she closed the office door behind her, he was taking a small bowl down from his shelves. She had read about pensives of course, but she had never seen one. Harry had told her about the few times in which he had fallen into one or another, though, so she knew what it was the professor held in his hands.

It was small, but solid looking. There weren't any decorative frills – just a feeling of function and efficiency. She watched as he wrapped a strand of thought around his wand and gently added it to the silvery liquid that swam in the bowl. He didn't look at her until all the thought was mixed in thoroughly.

His eyes were tight and resigned. The small fire burned but couldn't lighten his eyes. His usual pallor was marked. His mouth firm in it's resolve.

"Professor," she didn't get to finish her question.

"Ms. Granger. What you want is in this pensive. You know how to use one, do you not?" He waited for her nod. "Then I suggest you seek your answers there." He turned his back on her and walked over to the fire. To her surprise, he squatted down and stoked the flames, as if he had found a sudden chill.

His very manner shook Hermione. This was not the tyrant she knew, or even the man who had sat up with her this morning only to tell her to mind her own business before stomping off. This man was bent and almost humbled. It was almost as if he thought his actions had somehow betrayed him. It was something to think about.

She reached out a hand to the pensive but stopped just short of actually entering. It seemed almost invasive. She had only meant to ask him what had happened – she hadn't meant for him to pour his memory out for her perusal. Voices rang in her head, voices that told her that everyone is biased, that she had to be careful with him. But she honestly wanted to know what he had seen – how things had seemed to him. A pensive was a receptacle for memory. As such, those memories were tinted with perception. His perception.

Her finger tips dipped into the silvery liquid and she was suddenly immersed.

The world that she slipped into was devoid of color. She found herself back in Professor Snape's office, watching him place a small, folded bit of parchment on the mantle. There was a strained look about him, a tension in his shoulders that she found herself wanting to smooth away. Just before he left, she saw him look back at her sleeping figure. That tension at once seemed to both melt away and heighten. Odd.

However, when had this man been anything but odd?

As they walked out the door she was suddenly outside the gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office. "Twizzler." There was a horrific sneer upon his face. Something told her that he didn't like those, whatever they were. When the headmaster's office opened she saw, just as she feared, Harry and Ron were standing next to Professor Dumbledore's desk looking as if they were digesting something quite unpalatable.

As the headmaster started talking she walked towards Ron. His fists were balled up, his jaw clenched and his shoulders hunched forward. Everything about him screamed anger and violence – and it was directed towards the dark man who was answering the headmaster's question.

It wasn't until Ron had edged nose to nose with Professor Snape and the headmaster had raised his voice at Ron that her attention focused on what was being said between the two men and the two boys. She could feel the uneasiness in the air, as if was suspended, fog like around everything. Was that part of the apprehension Professor Snape associated with this memory?

Then she heard Ron accuse Professor Snape of seducing her – and what Ron then called her. Even knowing how hotheaded he was – how many times in his life he had opened up his mouth and inserted half of his lower limbs – did not reduce the sadness and anger that filled her. She didn't want to find out what would happen if she tried to use magic inside the pensive so she backed away from Ron before the urge to hex him overcame her.

Everything in the pensive was now tinged in red – a lurid, damp, dark red, quite unlike the passionate Gryffindor red. When she noticed this, she got up and looked into Professor Snape's eyes. They had narrowed and rage seemed to fair pour out of them. His sharp tongue filleted Ron as neatly as the Master would fillet Manticore muscle. As she was paying such close attention to his eyes she noticed a lurking bit of something – something almost like righteousness – certainly something that she had never expected to see in his eyes. And there he was – indignant and fuming on her behalf. No one had ever stood for her with this air of fury and determination, as if she, the irritating Gryffindor know-it-all was worth his time and energy, worth his… caring. Her breath caught in her throat just looking at him.

As the boys left, the color fled from the room, leaving behind only a bone grey pallet. His voice was tired and wary as he stayed behind – at the headmaster's request. Listening to Dumbledore tell Professor Snape that he thought she had "adequate shelter" in the dungeons, she wondered what the old man was up to. Something about his awareness – and motives – made her question how much he knew or Saw. The answer wasn't one that she really wanted just then.

As the world faded into a mist, she caught one last glimpse of herself sleeping on the couch where she had later woken up. She barely had time to notice that her hair, where it spread over the arm rest, was tinged with a soft muted brown before the image faded. Again, the simple question, "Why?" filled her mind.

When she was free of the pensive, she looked up and towards the fire where she had last seen Professor Snape. He was still there, hunched into the fires warmth. As softly as she could, she put her wand away and walked towards him. The room was small so it was only a few steps. It wasn't until she pressed the back of her hand to his cheek that he seemed to remember that she was there. His head snapped towards her, pressing more firmly into her hand. She tried to smile kindly, softly, at him.

"Thank you. For so much." She stroked his cheek bone once before backing a step away from him. He looked like a caged animal – wanting to run, but not knowing to where. She stood there and let him look at her until his eyes calmed to something more closely resembling their normal intensity. "Thank you," she whispered again before turning to leave.

Just as she was about to open the door she heard him say, softly, "If you are ever in need of a door to slam, Miss Granger…"

She didn't look back, not trusting the tightness inside her. But she did nod a little and smile to herself before walking out his door.

AN: I am so sorry about this being late. I had hoped to get it out at Christmas but for some reason I had the hardest time getting this chapter written. I didn't have my outline with me over the holiday so this chapter barely went as it was supposed to – but I like it just as well, if not more than, what I had originally decided upon. I hope you all have enjoyed this and I look forward to hearing from everyone. Every Which Way But Loose (once again from Severus' POV) will start soon – well soon for me. It is a short piece – in line with "MTM", but it does contain lemons. Happy Reading!


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